The Sociopath

Is it possible for a sociopath to explain love to another being? I suppose it’s possible. I don’t want to believe that I’m completely devoid of feelings, and I’m not. I just lack moral responsibility and social conscience. More simply put, if I were to step on your foot, I would feel nothing, well other than the sensation of a foot under my foot. I care not a nanny what you feel. Empathy is for other people. And morals? They are a waste of time, if you ask me.

I have no idea when it started. Perhaps when I was a child, the summer my hair went from completely straight to a sort of frazzled wool look. I was eight years old. An A+ student, if that can be said of an elementary school student. I was very studious and was able to entertain myself for hours.

I wasn’t the sort of kid who would pull spiders legs out, or burn ants with a magnifying glass or anything. I kept to myself for the most part. Sometimes I wonder if the people who influenced me during those years even really existed. There was a boy John who taught me if one is bigger than everyone else, then they would get whatever, usually with some extra force, they desired. A quick wit can help you, but the brute would always beat the silver tongued. There was a girl named Gwen who I thought I had affections for. She taught me no matter how much one chases something they still might never get it, if she even existed that is.

My memories are so hazy. I don’t know if it’s a side effect of my psychoses, but I have really no memories to define me like other people. Everyone else seems to be able to readily pull to his or her forethought events and feelings that happened weeks and years ago. I don’t know if any of my memories are real anyways, they always seemed to me like they happened to other people anyhow. I always felt like I was just an observer in the room watching the events unfold. It was similar to watching a movie, you might find yourself hoping some particular set of events happen, but in the end you don’t honestly care what happens. It’s just a way to while away the long tedious hours of existing. I wonder from time to time, if everything in my head was just implanted by some bastard; playing a trick or gaming with me.

So the question now becomes, why am I sharing this with anyone? Well truth be told, I love the attention. I would say it feels good, but it’s more that it feels good to know I can trick other people into wanting to be near me, around me. I couldn’t care less what they feel, so long as I can trick them into thinking that they need to share it with me. It’s quite a delightful game.

There’s power in knowing other peoples feelings. I have been able to use information like this to my advantage many times before. Well I don’t want to give away too many of my secrets, so I’ll leave it at that.

-V-